


.03 Small Town Politics

by unkemptseeker



Series: We lived a life of: Almost [3]
Category: Longmire
Genre: AU, F/M, Fuck Canon, One Shot, cady is YOUNG and tipsy, family dysfunction, i said what i said, implied acquaintances, let cady have friends squad, newb lawyer cady, pre-show so I can do WHATEVER I WANT, tipsy cady has bad aim, walts salt about the casino is a personality trait
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:40:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24708466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unkemptseeker/pseuds/unkemptseeker
Summary: best laid plans and all, alas, this will remain as is, another 2018 piece.
Relationships: Cady Longmire/Jacob Nighthorse
Series: We lived a life of: Almost [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1786264
Comments: 7
Kudos: 17





	.03 Small Town Politics

She’s twenty-eight. 

She’s twenty-eight and she’s not sure she _feels_ like it. How does one _feel_ an age? 

She’s twenty-eight, in a black strapless dress and it’s like she’s playing dress up; soon one of the real adults will out her. 

A loose curled handful of her hair kisses her cheek and she grips her clutch harder. 

_You’re wrong_ , she tells herself. _You worked hard and earned this, you’ve got nothing to worry about. You’re a full fledged lawyer badass._

She leaves her spot, half hidden behind insanely tacky fake plant decor and gauzy fabric, and begins her walk across the room. 

“I’m Cady Longmire,” she says when the governor turns to greet her. When she sees his eyes widen excitedly at her last name she finds herself wishing, not for the first time, that she’d done what her law professor suggested, and gone with her mother’s maiden name. 

Too late now though, and she forces herself to keep the smile on her face as the governor tucks her hand she’s extended around his arm. “Ms. Longmire,” he says, sounding too media trained and happy. “Tell me, I know you’re living in Cheyenne now, but what do you think about the tribe’s casino plans in Durant?” 

“I’m sure my daughter thinks that it’s a bad idea, just like I do.” 

She stops, gently withdrawing her arm from the governors with a polite smile, her mind running through all the ways she’s going to use what’s bound to be a temper inducing conversation in her next kickboxing class. “Actually,” she counters, drawing herself up to her full high heeled height, “you’d be incorrect. Which you’d know if you’d bothered to return my calls or voicemails anytime in the past 3 months.” 

Her dad’s eyes narrow slightly in her direction, and she doesn’t really feel the guilt she knows she should at airing their family’s dirty laundry, even if it’s in front of the governor. She turns her whole body to face the dark haired politician and finds him eyeing them speculatively. “I do have some concerns, monetarily and community wise, but if this is what the tribe wants, their voices count for more, surely,” she says. 

“Well, how about that, father and daughter on opposing sides.” The governor’s wearing a smug smile, and he claps her dad on the shoulder. “Better get used to it Sheriff, I hear Cady’s work at Holland’s practice is going fantastically.” She watches them walk away, and her dad’s voice floats back to her, the distinct way he says “Nighthorse” making her wish she’d thought to grab a drink at the bar.

“It will pass,” Henry says from behind her. 

She feels just a fraction of her tension fall away at the sight of her godfather, even more so when he deposits a dark fizzy drink in her hand. She takes a full swig and nods in appreciation at the taste of rum that coats her throat. “ You’re my favorite person,” she says closing her eyes, smiling small when she feels Henry’s hand on her arm. 

“Why is he so determined to ruin this opportunity,” she asks quietly, sighing when Henry gives her a fond smile. “Don’t,” she continues, annoyed. “Come on, this _isn’t_ just about the tourist flocking here or the damn casino.” 

“Jacob just pisses him off,” Henry says finally, giving her a half ass shrug. “The money, and the idea that Barlow is all for it, even a little bit…” 

He shrugs again and Cady just stands still, processing. 

“He’s not Cheyenne,” she says. “He shouldn’t have this much say. And Barlow, really? What, are we suddenly the Hatfields and McCoys?” 

“We shall see,” Henry says, pressing a hand lightly to her shoulder. “You are a good woman, my god daughter.” 

  


\- - -

  


“Mom.” The word is long, drawn out, and whiny, and Cady presses a hand to her face. 

Her mom exhales quietly and wraps an arm around her waist, pressing their heads together. “You didn’t mean to rile him up Pumpkin,” Martha says softly. 

Cady swallows her building temper because the silk of her mom’s head scarf against her face is churning her stomach, and she puts her empty glass on the small table. “ Do you know how paranoid he sounds,” she asks, rubbing her head in frustration. 

Her mom laughs a little and kisses her on the side of the head. “You can’t do anything about what he sounds like, and he can’t do anything about you. Now that you’ve grown up and left us; it’s what you were meant to do,” she says quickly, like she could feel Cady about to protest. “You’re meant to go and change the world, even if your dad doesn’t understand.” 

They stay standing together for a few moments, and then Cady untangles herself slowly, kissing her mom on the cheek. 

“I’ll see you soon,” Cady says over her shoulder, watching her mom smile in response. 

She orders another rum and coke at the bar and jumps when her phone buzzes in her clutch, after it buzzes again she drags it out and slides the phone open. 

_Holland says us lowly new lawyer noobs can leave if we want_ , the text says, and Cady nods to herself. 

_Fuck yes_ , she types back, alongside a winky face, _I thought I’d have to murder my dad_. 

_The Sheriff of Durant, that’s clout you can’t afford to lose girl! Meet me outside in 15!_

She rolls her eyes at Madi’s reply, shoves her phone away and makes it out into the main hallway without being stopped by anyone else she knows. She gulps down the rum and coke and manages to sneak the empty glass onto the tray of a passing server, before heading towards her destination.

  


\- - -

  


The coat room is blissfully empty, and she finds her tote bag easily in the organized shelves. She lugs it to the coat rack and shoves her high heels in and pulls out a pair of slip-on sneakers. She’s barely shrugged on the deep navy wool coat --it’s hanging off her left bare shoulder-- when the door opens. 

She laughs, and then feels her whole face flush when Jacob Nighthorse raises an immaculate eyebrow at her. “I’m sorry,” she says quickly, sticking a hand on the rail of the rack and getting one shoe on. “It’s just, my dad’s already on a warpath about the casino, and you, again,” she stops talking and slides on the second shoe, looking over to see him slowly removing his coat. 

He makes a face that could almost be considered amusement and stays still, like he’s observing her. “Thanks for the warning,” he says finally, stepping in front of her, and hanging up his coat. “How’s Holland treating you?” he asks, casually, like they converse on a regular basis. 

They _don’t_ converse on a regular basis though and she finds herself wondering how he always seems to know what part of her to peel back and examine. “I never said thank you,” she starts, dragging her teeth against her lower lip briefly. “Irving told me you wrote him a recommendation letter about me. You didn’t….I just…” she trails off and shrugs, tucking her loose curls behind her ear. 

“The world needs more people, and lawyers like you.” 

She doesn’t know what to do with that, what to even say to that. 

Her feet are moving her forward, and suddenly she’s getting an up close few of the beard he’s currently sporting. She aims for his cheek but apparently the two rum and cokes are pumping fast through her system, hours of only existing on hors d'oeuvres will do that, and she misses, catching the corner of his mouth under her lips. 

“Shit,” she says, airily. “Oh god, I’m sorry, thank you, and I’m sorry.” 

She quickly snatches her tote bag up with one hand, and bolts.


End file.
